Ken Ray's Soldiers: Private Philip Yates

Ken Ray, a long-time researcher into the lives of local soldiers has assembled an impressive list of North Staffordshire men who served in the Napoleonic Wars, the Crimea and the numerous colonial conflicts Britain participated in during the 19th and early 20th centuries. He has very kindly given me access to some of his documents which chart the lives and careers of ordinary men from the region who might otherwise have been forgotten. This is one of those stories...

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Private Philip Yates, Royal Regiment of Horse Guards (Oxford Blues)

Napoleonic Wars

The Life Guards and Royal Horse
Guards (foreground) at Waterloo

Philip Yates was born in Stoke or possibly Hanley Green in 1784. His parents remain unknown and nothing is known of his background though he may have received some education in early life as he was later able to sign his name, albeit in a rather shaky hand. He initially worked locally as a plumber and glazier before attesting for the Royal Horse Guards at Nantwich, Cheshire on 13th March 1805 at the age of 21. 

Yates saw service with his regiment in the Peninsula War in Spain and France at the battles of Vittoria (1813) and Toulouse (1814). At Waterloo he served in Lieutenant Colonel Clement Hill's troop Royal Horse Guards which with the Life Guards and King's Dragoon Guards formed the Household Brigade of heavy cavalry, Yates's regiment forming the second reserve rank of the brigade. As the reserve, the regiment should have held back to exploit any opportunities missed by the front rank in any charge and then cover the withdrawal, but when great cavalry charge of the Household and Union Brigades was launched to counter the first full-scale French attack on the Allied line, the Blues followed suit, clashing with a large force of French cuirassiers who were advancing in support of the French infantry. Unlike the front line regiments, though, they did not advance too far, maintained their formation and made an orderly withdrawal back to the main line. The Blues also saw plenty of action later in the day, skirmishing repeatedly with the French cavalry during their charges against the Allied line in the late afternoon. 

After Waterloo and Napoleon's abdication, the Royal Horse Guards remained in France until 1816, when they returned to their base at Windsor and the rest of Private Yates' service was at home. On his discharge from the army on 5th February 1827, Yates was described as being 43 years old, 5' 10½” tall, with brown hair, grey eyes and a fresh complexion; his conduct as a soldier had been good. The reason for his discharge was due to length of service and amounted to 22 years and 43 days with the Colours, plus the 2 extra years service granted to all Waterloo veterans.

Yates returned to the Potteries after his discharge, travelling from Windsor to Hanley Green, where he picked up the threads of his old life, helped on by a Chelsea pension. Five years later on 24th June 1832, he married widow Elizabeth Pope (possibly nee Orton) in Hanley. In 1841 they were living in Brunswick Street, Shelton. Philip was back working as a glazier, Elizabeth's trade is hard to read as too is that of her 15 year old son from her previous marriage, John Pope, though he may have been a pottery packer; the fourth member of the household was Philip and Elizabeth's eight year old daughter Elizabeth. On a personal note, when I looked at the 1841 census entry, I was surprised and pleased to discover that Philip Yates and his family lived only two doors away from my great, great, great grandparents Thomas and Ann Cooper and their family.

One Philip Yates died in 1847 aged 66 and was buried on 26th December 1847. He had lived long enough to apply for the Military General Service Medal, as it was awarded with the two clasps for his Peninsula War service.

Reference: UK, Military Campaign Medal and Award Rolls, 1793-1949, Battle of Waterloo 1815, p.23; UK, Military Campaign Medal and Award Rolls, 1793-1949: Napoleonic Wars 1793-1815, p.193; UK, Waterloo Medal Roll, 1815; UK, Royal Hospital, Chelsea: Regimental Registers of Pensioners, 1713-1882, p.58; WO97 Royal Hospital Chelsea: Soldiers' Service Documents;1841 census for Shelton, Stoke-on-Trent.

Old News from the Potteries

Regular newspaper coverage of events in the Potteries only really started at the end of the 18th century with the advent in 1795 of the Staffordshire Advertiser paper, though as this was published in Stafford, it's coverage of the goings on in the north of the county was limited to the most noteworthy events. Another half century would pass before more local newspapers were being produced in Hanley, Stoke and Burslem. However, histories, travellers journals and some other national or regional papers occasionally carried tales from the Potteries from this early period giving us fleeting glimpses into life in the area.

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The King's Touch

It was widely believed in the past that the King's touch could heal certain ailments. To this end on 29 August 1687, the minister and churchwardens of Stoke-upon-Trent gave John Bell of Cobridge a sealed certificate whereby he could obtain the King's sacred touch for his son Samuel Bell, who suffered from 'the King's Evil' i.e. scrofula. 

(John Ward, The History of the Borough of Stoke-upon-Trent, p.281)

John Wesley is Pelted in the Potteries 

On 8 March 1760, the Reverend John Wesley, the founding father of Methodism, visited Burslem for the first of many visits to the region. He described Burslem as 'a scattered town, on the top of a hill, inhabited almost entirely by potters', a large crowd of whom had gathered to hear him at five in the evening. He noted that great attention sat on every face, but also great ignorance which he hoped he could banish. 

The next day Wesley preached a second sermon in Burslem to twice the number of the day before. 'Some of these seemed quite innocent of thought. Five or six were laughing and talking till I had near done; and one of them threw a clod of earth, which struck me on the side of the head. But it neither disturbed me nor the congregation.' 

(John Wesley, Journal, 8-9th March 1760)

The First Cut

After receiving the royal assent two months earlier for construction of a canal connecting the rivers Trent and Mersey, on the morning of 26 July 1766, at a site just below Brownhills, pottery manufacturer Josiah Wedgwood cut the first sod of what would in time become the Trent and Mersey canal. James Brindley, the engineer who would oversee the canal's construction, and numerous other dignitaries were present, many of whom would also cut a piece of turf, or wheel away a barrow of earth to mark the occasion. In the afternoon a sheep was roasted in Burslem market place for the benefit of the poorer potters in the town. A bonfire was also lit in front of Wedgwood's house and many other events took place around the Potteries by way of celebration. 

(Jean Lindsay, The Trent and Mersey Canal, pp.31-32)

News from the North

'As you often give me London News, I will give you some from this Country, which has of late made a Figure. This Neighbourhood has for many Years made Pots for Europe, and will still do so, though the King of Prussia has lately clapt 28 per Cent, upon them. Our Roads were so bad that nobody came to view the Place where the Flint Ware is made, but now we have Turnpikes upon Turnpikes, and our Potteries are as well worth seeing as the Stockport Silk-Mills, or the Bridgewater Navigation, which we intend to beat hollow by Lord Gower's, now begun in our Meadows, and advancing apace towards Harecastle, on the other Side of which Multitudes of Men are at work, and before Christmas we shall have cut through the Hill, and made another Wonder of the World. There are already 100 Men employed on our Side, and 100 more will be added as soon as Wheelbarrows can be procured for them. Saturday last we had brave Sport at Earl Gower's, where 100,000 Spectators were present at the Prison-Bars played in Trentham Park. Among them were the Dukes of Bedford and Bridgewater. The Prizes were Ten Carline Hats, with gold Loops and Buttons, given by the Earl. The Cheshire Men were active Fellows, but unluckily their Lot was to wear Plod Drawers, to distinguish them from their Antagonists, which made the Crowd oppose their getting the Honour of the Day. During this Game, my Friend Bucknall loft his Boy, about Eight Years of Age, who was suffocated by going aslant down a Sort of a Cave into an old Coalpit, the top of which was fallen in. The Man that ventured to fetch him out, found a Number of Birds, supposed to have dropped down there by the sulphurous Stench issuing from the Pit. We have much Hay, and Cheese is plenty, and Corn without Barn-room, nor do we want Money. 

P. S. I have just seen a Hen, which laid Twelve Eggs only, from which she has brought up Twelve Cock Chickens, which is looked upon as somewhat remarkable.' 

(Extract of a Letter from Burslem,14  August 1766, Derby Mercury, Friday 29 August 1766, p.2)

Tunnel Vision

On 1 July 1772, an anonymous correspondent writing from Burslem related what he had seen the day before when he and some companions paid a visit to the first incarnation of the Harecastle Tunnel, situated between Tunstall and Kidsgrove and then under construction as part of James Brindley's Trent and Mersey Canal. 

'Yesterday we took a walk to the famous subterraneous canal at Harecastle, which is now opened for a mile on one side of the hill, and more than half a mile on the other, of course the whole must be compleated in a short time. As it is not yet filled with water, we entered into it, one of the party repeating the beautiful lines in Virgil, which describe the descent of Æneas into the Elysian fields. On a sudden our ears were struck with the most melodious sounds. - Lest you should imagine us to have heard the genius or goddess of the mountain singing the praises of engineer Brindly, it may be necessary to inform you, that one of the company had advanced some hundred paces before, and there favoured us with some excellent airs on the German flute. You can scarcely conceive the charming effect of this music echoed and re-echoed along a cavern near two thousand yards in length.' 

(Leeds Intelligencer, Tuesday 14 July 1772, p.3)

A Fungi to Be With

'A few days ago, a mushroom was got at Stoke-upon-Trent, in the county of Stafford, whose diameter was 5 inches, and 30 inches in circumference, it weighed 16 ounces. The above is very authentic.' 

(Leeds Intelligencer, 5 September 1775, p.3)

All in a Spin

'The following extraordinary phenomenon was lately observed here; at the latter end of last month, a field of hay belonging to Mr. J. Clark, near Burslem, was carried off by a whirlwind; the day when it happened was exceedingly calm, scarce a breath of air to be perceived. The people who were at work in the field observed, that in one part the hay began to be agitated in a small circle, at every wheel it increased in size and velocity, continually sucking more hay into its vortex; after a considerable time it began to ascend, taking along with it a silk handkerchief which hung rather loosely about the neck of one of the men who was at work; it continued ascending till entirely out sight, and in about an hour it began to descend, and continued to so for an hour's space, alighting at, or within a few hundred yards of the place from whence it had been carried up, so that the owner lost but a very trifling quantity of his hay.' 

(Hereford Journal, 23 August 1781, p.2)

A Tragic Accident

The following melancholy tale from the Potteries is related in a letter dated August 14 1785. 'As Ellen Hulme, a poor woman of Lane End, was returning to her habitation late last night, with her infant, six weeks old, in her arm, she unfortunately stepped into a coal-pit, which shamefully lay open close to the road, and even with the track which led to the poor creature's house. Her husband, whom she had been to fetch from an alehouse, immediately alarmed the neighbourhood, when her distressing cries were very distinctly heard from the bottom of the dreary pit every effort was attempted by the hardy colliers to fetch her up, but the damp prevailing very much, obliged them to use means to extract it, after which was found the mother with her infant upon her arms, both dead.' 

(Sussex Advertiser, 22 August 1785, p.3) 

A Hard Winter

During the harsh winter of 1794-1795, the better off inhabitants of Hanley and Shelton formed a committee which started a subscription list for the temporary relief the poor who were suffering great hardship during the cold weather. By February 1795 the committee had collected an impressive £150, enough to enable them  to supply nearly 500 local families with meat, potatoes, and cheese. The Wedgwood family gave a liberal amount and through them a Mrs Crewe kindly added a welcome donation of a quantity of flannel clothing. The Marquis of Stafford aided the relief fund by ordering 100 tons of coal to be at the distribution of the committee. 

A month later, in an issue of the Staffordshire Advertiser that noted that thermometers in Macclesfield had measured temperatures as low as -21° F (-29.4° C), the fearsome nature of the winter was highlighted dramatically by one small but rather macabre snippet of news. 'Through the inclemency of the night of Saturday last [i.e.,14 March] a poor man perished betwixt Hanley and Bucknall. He unfortunately lost himself in attempting to cross the fields, and was found on Sunday standing upright in a snow drift, with his hand only above the surface.' 

(Staffordshire Advertiser, 7 February 1795, p.3; 21 March 1795, p.3.)

Wild Fire

In late March or early April 1799, a dreadful accident happened in a pit at Lane End, the property of John Smith, Esq. Four men were blown up, and two them terribly burnt by what the colliers of the time described as 'the wild fire'. The explosion was loud, and the concussion so great that nearby houses shook violently. Two of the men were not expected to recover, while the other two were thrown to a considerable distance, and left badly bruised. The reporter noted that their hats were blown to the distance of 70 yards from the mouth of the pit. 

(Staffordshire Advertiser, Saturday, 6 April 1799, p.4)

Elizabeth Smith and the Mason Connection

In the early 2000s I was contacted by Ernie Luck a collector and researcher of Mason's pottery who had been looking into a vague connection he had heard of existing between Captain E. J. Smith of the Titanic and the Mason and Spode pottery dynasties, a link he had gone on to substantiate. As well as providing me with much other information that helped me in my own research, Ernie subsequently sent me the following article detailing the Smith-Mason connection which he had written for the Mason Collector's Club newsletter in 2003 and he has kindly allowed me to reproduce it here in full.

Elizabeth Smith (1855-1942) was the eldest of nine children born to Captain Smith's uncle George and his wife Thirza nee Leigh, and though her own story is nowhere near as glamourous as that of her famous cousin it is nevertheless an interesting piece of local history showing the connections - though often distant and accidental - that could build up between disparate families in such a self-contained region as the Staffordshire Potteries once were.

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Charles Spode Mason and his Descendants

by

Ernie Luck

Charles Spode Mason was the only son of Charles James Mason’s marriage to his first wife Sarah Spode. I have been unable to trace a record of his birth or his christening, but a consensus of the age attributed to him on various documents suggests he was born in 1820 or 1821.

Despite the ultimate bankruptcy of the business, his father Charles James was, by and large, a very wealthy and successful business man.  By contrast Charles Spode Mason appeared to have none of these attributes.  This may have been due to his privileged upbringing leading to slothful ways, or maybe Charles James was too busy with the business to ensure his son applied himself to his education; whatever the reason, the evidence, gleaned from a variety of sources suggests that he had neither a successful marriage nor a successful business.

Charles Spode did not get married until 1856 – the year of his father’s death – when he was 35 years old.  He married Elizabeth Leese, a sixteen year old, at St Paul’s Church, Stoke on Trent, on the 21 September.  Their only child, Mark Spode Mason, was born on 11 Feb 1858 at Terrace Buildings, Fenton.  Incidentally, Terrace Buildings Works was one of the lesser known Mason manufactories which, according to Reginald Haggar, was built by Charles James in 1835 and vacated in 1848.

Although Charles Spode was described as a Solicitor on his marriage certificate, the 1861 census return tells a different story because on that document he is described as having ‘No profession or trade’.  But it is the transcript of a letter held in the Haggar Archives which provide a rather damning insight into his professional status.  The letter was written in July 1933 to J. V. Goddard from a Mr J. Beardmore.  He writes ‘Midway between 1860 and 1870, it was intended that I should study law, and I was for a time in the offices of a firm of lawyers, and Mr Charles Mason called several times, a ‘wreck’, the butt, I fear of the clerks who spoke of him as a ‘broken down solicitor’, meaning perhaps ‘not legally qualified’’.  Things must have continued to go down hill for Charles because when he died in 1878 at the age of 57 years, he was a resident of the Stoke upon Trent Workhouse. 

My research of Charles’s son Mark Spode Mason was only accomplished with the assistance of his great-granddaughter Mrs Marjorie Burrett, who lives in East Yorkshire and a distant relative who lives in New Zealand (one of the Quaker Mason’s).  Without their prior research, progress would have been slow, if not impossible.  Although their research was accurate in essentials, the devil lay in the detail and my efforts to put some ‘meat on the bones’ proved to be not as easy as I had anticipated.  With two children born out of wedlock, his propensity to move frequently, and his use of ‘James’ as a first name, trying to find him or the family on the census was a researcher’s nightmare.

Mark married Elizabeth Smith at St Giles Church in Newcastle-under-Lyme on 23 April 1877. Elizabeth’s younger brother and sister, William and Emily were the witnesses.  Elizabeth was connected with another famous person; she was a cousin of Edward Smith, Captain of the ill-fated Titanic.

Left Elizabeth Smith (standing) and her sister Sarah, right Commander E.J. Smith. Elizabeth's marriage to Mark Mason forged a link between the Mason and Spode dynasties and the captain of the Titanic.

Elizabeth had two children before her marriage to Mark and there must be a serious doubt as to whether he was the father of Elizabeth’s first child, Ann, as he was only 16 years of age when she was born. Ann, was born on 28 July 1874 in the Union Workhouse, Chell (near Tunstall) and registered as ‘Ann Smith’ – no fathers name was provided. It looks as if Elizabeth’s family could not afford to provide for her and her child, or perhaps they threw her out because of what then, would have been a shameful event - their daughter having a child out of wedlock. How times have changed. On the 1881 census Ann, recorded as ‘Anne Smith Mason’, was living with her grandparents, George and Thirza Smith in May Bank, Wolstanton.

Elizabeth’s next child, Lydia Mason Smith, was born at May Bank on the 4 March 1877, seven weeks before her marriage to Mark.  On the 1881 census she is staying at Goose Street, Newcastle under Lyme with her grandmother, Elizabeth Mason, widow of Charles Spode Mason.

Mark and Elizabeth’s third child, Florence Coyney Mason, was born on 26 March 1879 at Goose Street, Newcastle.  She was undoubtedly named after Mark’s Aunt, Florence Elizabeth Coyney.

Two years later the family had travelled up to the north east of the country and on the 1881 census, Mark, (now calling himself James), his wife Elizabeth, and two-year old Florence were staying at a lodging house in Northowram, Yorks.  Some of the occupants were described as cutlery grinders which has significance because the occupation on Mark’s death certificate was recorded as ‘scissor grinder’. Why did Mark decide to move away from the Potteries, leaving the two oldest children with the grandparents? Why call himself James?  His Aunt, Elizabeth Spode, left him an inheritance to be paid on his twenty first birthday; was there some connection, or did he leave the area because of debts?  You can but speculate.

Their next child, Elizabeth, was born at 2 Smith Street, Hartlepool, on the 1 September 1884.  Elizabeth was the only child actually registered by Mark.  The name and surname of the father is recorded as ‘James Spence Mason’ on the certificate.  The name of the Registrar was Spence, so this may possible account for the discrepancy in Mark’s middle name.

Mark and Elizabeth’s last child, Charles Spode Mason - obviously named after his grand-father - was born on 25 April 1889 at 121 King Edward Street, Grimsby.  The family had finally settled in Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire; a major fishing area.

‘At noon, on Friday, 20 February 1891, an inquest was held at the Great Coates Railway Station, before the District Coroner (Dr C. B. Moody) inquiring into the circumstances attending the death of James [Mark] Mason, 33 years of age, scissor grinder, late residing at Drakes Buildings, Grimsby.  From the evidence produced it seems the deceased, who had been peculiar in his conduct for two or three days past, was observed walking along the Railway from Grimsby to Great Coates, on Thursday morning week.  After standing somewhat irresolute on the line, he watched the morning express from Grimsby approach and deliberately flung himself in front of the Engine; the guard iron struck him on the head and turned him out of the way, and when assistance arrived some few minutes later he was found lying in a ditch beside the railway line.  Life was then quite extinct.’  

So reads the opening paragraphs of the report of the inquest.  In her testimony, Mark’s wife Elizabeth told of the great difficulty they had experienced in maintaining the family of six since Christmas and how this had preyed on Mark’s mind.  At the end of the proceedings, the jury, in an act of generosity, kindly devoted their fees to Elizabeth because of her straightened circumstances.  There were no social services to fall back on, in those days. 

It is only recently that the true circumstances of Mark’s death have been unearthed.  Prior to this the family had always understood that Mark had been killed at a level-crossing on his way home – ‘drunk as usual’.  No doubt the truth had been suppressed to avoid causing the children any undue distress.

Mark’s widow Elizabeth remarried the following year - with five children to bring up perhaps out of necessity.  She married George William Johnson, a fisherman, on the 25 Dec. 1892 at St John’s Church, New Clee.  By the time of the 1901 census, Elizabeth had two more children, a son, George Johnson, 8 years’ old, and a daughter, Gertrude Johnson, 5 years old.  It was Gertrude who cared for her mother when she became old and infirm.

By the turn of the century, nearly all of Mark’s children had left home. Lydia had married John Cardy in 1896 and by the time of the 1901 census had borne three offspring; John, Florence Annie and George Hugh.  It is possible more children followed.

Florence Coyney Mason married George Illingworth on the 1 January 1908, at the Church of St Peter in Bradford. They continued to live in the Bradford area and, as far as I know, they did not have any children.

Elizabeth married Swanson Carnes Trushell on the 26 August 1901 and had seven children over the next twenty years. Their eldest, Sidney Edward Trushell, is the father of Marjorie Burrett nee Trushell, who has provided me with a lot of information.  Most, if not all, of the descendants of Elizabeth Mason and Swanson Trushell are known right up to the present time.  They are too numerous to detail, but are illustrated on the accompanying family tree, although the most recent members of the family have been omitted to protect their anonymity.  The eldest living descendant is Elizabeth’s daughter (Mark’s grand-daughter), Joyce Coyney Clarke nee Trushell.

Charles Spode Mason Junior, the youngest of Mark’s children, died of TB at the age of 36 years on 24 January 1926.  He was employed as a Brewer’s cellar man and was staying at his mother’s house at the time of his death, so presumably he had not married.

We know very little of Elizabeth Smith’s first child Ann, except that she had a family and there are descendants living in America.

Acknowledgments: My special thanks to Marjorie Burrett, (a direct descendant of Miles Mason and Josiah Spode 1) and Lyane Kendall of New Zealand, a distant relative of the Mason family, for providing details of the Mark Spode Mason family tree.  My own small contribution was to provide a little more detail on the individuals and to successfully trace the whereabouts of an inscribed pottery mug presented to Mark Spode Mason shortly after his fifteenth birthday.  The mug in question was given to The Spode Museum Trust, Stoke in 1975 by a relative, to avoid any family dispute over ownership.

References: Birth, Marriage and Death certificates and Census Returns from the Family Record Centre London; The Grimsby News Fri. 20 Feb. 1891; extract of letter in the Haggar archives from the research notes of Peter Roden

Photo of Elizabeth and Sarah Smith courtesy of the late Marjorie Burrett.

The Battle of Burslem

Thomas Cooper, the Chartist whose
fiery speeches sparked the riots.

In 1842, a prolonged miner's strike had crippled the Staffordshire Potteries. Hundreds of men were on the streets begging and intimidating passers by, while surly mobs raided police stations to free those who had been arrested. The situation in the Potteries was likened to that of a powder keg ready to explode and all that was needed was a spark to kindle all into combustion. Enter Thomas Cooper (see here) lay preacher and Chartist firebrand, whose powerful speeches finally struck that spark and plunged the Potteries into two days of rioting and mob rule. During this period dozens of buildings were looted and destroyed and order was only restored after a clash between rioters and the army, an incident popularly known as the Battle of Burslem.

The confrontation took place on 16th August 1842. After a day and night of rioting and looting, early in the morning of the 16th crowds began to gather once more on streets of the Potteries. Of the five towns which had suffered in the previous day's rioting, Hanley had been hit the worst. Plumes of heavy fire smoke curled up from either end of the town and the streets were filled with debris. The parsonage was a smouldering ruin and at the top of Pall Mall, Albion House home of local magistrate William Parker had been reduced to a charred and broken shell. On the streets of the town by 7 o'clock a crowd of 400 to 500 people had gathered and were being addressed by two of the local Chartist leaders, young William Ellis and John Richards, the elder statesman of Potteries Chartism. Ellis was urging the crowd not to give up the struggle until the People's Charter became the law of the land. According to witnesses, though, it was the normally mild-mannered Richards who was more to the point. "Now my lads," he said, "we have got the parson's house down, we must have the churches down, for if we lose this day, we lose the day forever." Ellis then spoke again and urged the crowd to go to Burslem to join the crowd there. They were expecting to meet up with a large crowd who were coming to the Potteries from Leek and extend the rioting even further. By 9 o'clock, with shouts of "Now lads for Burslem" and "Now to business", the Hanley mob began marching north.

From Hanley to Burslem is a steady half hour walk for a healthy man and as they entered the town at about 9.30am, the crowd were singing a song that Thomas Cooper had taught them, "... the lion of freedom's let loose from his den, and we'll rally round him again and again." On their arrival in the town a part of the mob barged into George Inn which had only ten days earlier been attacked by outraged strikers and suffered substantial damage. To try and avoid further trouble, the owner of the Inn, Mr Barlow tried to buy the rioters off by giving them a shilling each; some of this was in half crowns and a dispute arose at the door as to the division of it. By this time the greater part of the mob had arrived and they immediately rushed in and filled the house. Mr Barlow had taken the precaution to remove the bulk of his cash; there was however £14 in coppers wrapped up in parcels of five shillings, which were all taken. Numerous bottles of wine, whisky and rum was also stolen, and the taps attached to the beer kegs were left running. Prominent amongst those who conducted this raid was George 'Cogsey Nelly' Colclough, a local lout who had flitted from one town to another the previous day, joining in with the burning and looting wherever he went. Like a moth to the flame he had followed the trouble back to his native Hanley and now thought to export his brand of local thuggery to the Mother Town. But the invasion of the inn did not go unopposed, for while the mob had previously only faced outnumbered police constables, they now found that they were in a town containing a small but formidable force of regular soldiers. They were surprised by a sergeant of dragoons and one or two other soldiers who were billeted at the inn, who hearing the noise, rushed into the bar and lobby to confront the troublemakers. Being in their undress uniforms they only had their swords to hand, but undaunted, the sergeant immediately drew his sword and began to cutting and swatting at the looters and in a few minutes the house was cleared. On being forced back into the street, the mob vented their anger by throwing stones at the windows, and in a very short time all the newly fitted glass was smashed and the house soon presented the same dilapidated appearance as it did after the attack in the night of the 6th.

The Leopard Inn, Burslem.

At the Leopard Inn, meantime, local magistrate Captain Thomas Powys was with Brevet-Major Power Le Poer Trench the commander of the 50 or so 2nd Dragoon Guards, who had been stationed in Burslem the week before. The two men had met shortly after the news had come in of a large crowd coming from Leek and Powys was doubtless consulting with the military as to what should be done if they tried to join the rioters. It was at this point that Thomas Lees the landlord of the inn came over with news that trouble that had broken out in Chapel Square. Captain Powys immediately asked for the Major's assistance and Trench quickly ordered his available men to horse. Most of the men were billeted at the inn, their horses being stabled outside and the troopers now came out into the cobbled courtyard and hurriedly got themselves and their animals ready for action. A flurry of stones came flying over the gate striking at least one soldier on the helmet, but unfazed they were soon clattering out of the courtyard and through the streets. Mounted on their big bay horses, the soldiers dressed in scarlet tunics, dark blue trousers with a yellow stripe down the side and tall, crested brass helmets on their heads, they were a sight to see and doubtless provided the townsfolk with a gallant if alarming show as they rode towards the Market Place.

The mood in the town had grown increasingly ugly with the arrival of the soldiers and Captain Powys knew that the crowd of people from Leek were even now on the outskirts of the town. If the two mobs joined up and went unopposed Burslem might well be utterly wrecked, so Powys decided that it was now time to restore law and order before things got completely out of hand.

An officer of the 2nd Dragoon Guards
in 1842. The helmet would have lacked
the black plume while on active duty.

Riding up to the top of St John's Square with Trench's dragoons posted on either side and 200 special constables behind them, Captain Powys faced the mob and began to read out the Riot Act in a loud voice. He then gave several other warnings and then read the Riot Act again, urging the crowd to disperse and go home peacefully. The crowd, however, were unmoved and milled about between the market or the Shambles, as it was called, and the Big House, Thomas Wedgwood's former home that still stands at the junction of Moorland Road and Waterloo Road, though at that time there was a walled garden before it. Powys then called out, "Clear the streets!" Then shouted, "Charge!" and led the dragoons towards the crowd. He had hoped to scare them off and the horse soldiers beat with the flats of their swords any who were slow in getting out of their way. The ruse did not work, though, for as one portion of the crowd fell back others spilled out of the side streets and alleys, back into the main crowd. Seeing the opportunity to cause more trouble, George Colclough set about the nearest soldiers with his stick, beating at their sword arms as they attempted to swat him. After a time several of the cavalrymen were so bruised by Colclough's attacks that they left him alone, which is said to have raised a cheer from some in the crowd.

By now it was getting towards noon and despite the best efforts of Captain Powys and the soldiers, the streets were still full of people. Some had climbed onto the roof of the Town Hall and the covered market, from where they threw stones at the troops and special constables. Powys, increasingly alarmed that the situation might escalate to the point where he might have to use the soldiers more forcefully, was repeatedly seen riding up to the crowds and calling out that the Riot Act had been read and urging people to return to their homes. He was joined in his efforts by others including an Irish naval officer, 41 year old Captain William Bunbury McClintock, who had come to town to meet his friend Major Trench, only to find himself in the eye of a storm. McClintock now rode back and forth from where the bulk of the troops were gathered by the Leopard Inn to check on what the crowds were doing. He saw 'a vast concourse of people in the Hanley Road, and a dense mob on the Smallthorne Road - the latter were accompanied by a band of music. I returned again to the troop, and told Captain Powys there would soon be bloody work.'

Word quickly spread, to the delight of the rioters in the town that the Leek mob of between 4,000 to 5,000 people was advancing down Smallthorne Road and they began moving up Chapel Square to meet them. As McClintock had noted, at the head of the crowd marched a band playing 'See the Conquering Hero Comes' preceded by a large number of men and boys shouting and waving makeshift weapons overhead, all of which could be clearly seen from Market Square. Captain Powys described it as 'the most tumultuous and violent mob which I have ever seen assembled, having seen many riots in the country and in London." He guessed that a clash was now inevitable and barely three minutes after McClintock had ridden back to the troop, Powys ordered Major Trench to move the troop forward to meet the crowd and he formed his dragoons up in sections diagonally across the road from the Big House to the Post office, so cutting the newcomers off from the bulk of the Potteries' mob in the Market Square. The special constables, meantime, closed up nervously behind the cavalry, among them local manufacturer Joseph Edge and his friend Samuel Cork. They looked so alarmed at this point that a kindly lady watching the action from a nearby house sent her servant over with a glass of wine for them both, hoping that the drinks would revive their spirits.

They needed it, for by now the fresh crowd was closing on the thin line of soldiers. Captain Powys on horseback was on the left of Major Trench, who with the other officers were in advance of the dragoons. A large crowd was assembled in the area above the Wesleyan chapel, to witness the arrival of the Leek mob. When about eighty or a hundred yards from the spot where the dragoons were stationed, the Leek party began to cheer and those in front waved their bludgeons. As the head of the procession entered the open space, the front ranks turned to the left, with the apparent intention of making their way by the Wesleyan chapel. About twenty or thirty deep of them had got so far when as Captain Powys later recalled, 'Immediately large volleys of stones, and brick ends were thrown by this mob at myself, and also at the military, I being then in the advance. Similar stones were thrown at the same time by the mob coming in the direction from Hanley at the military, myself and also at the special constables.'

By now the situation was intolerable. Stones were being hurled from both sides of the Market Square, striking horses and men alike and rattling over the cobbles. Captain Powys had thus far been the model of restraint, giving the crowd ample opportunities for a peaceful withdrawal, but it was now obvious that they were bent on trouble. Fearing for the safety of the soldiers, special constables and himself, by his own account he felt he had no choice but to use the soldiers to full effect and turning to Major Trench, Powys asked him to get his men ready to open fire. Trench agreed that the situation was getting out of control and gave the appropriate orders. As the soldiers sheathed their swords and primed their carbines, the large crowd moved forward as far as the Big House. The dragoons advanced slightly to counter them and only at the last moment when the front of the crowd was only six or seven yards away from the soldiers did it seem that the rioters saw the line of guns being raised and levelled at them. 'This movement on the part of the soldiers caused a strange movement amongst those in the front of the mob, and a look of terror came over their faces. Another moment and the order "fire" was given' and the rattle of musketry echoed out loud over the town.'

The Big House, Burslem, where troops and rioters clashed.

The soldiers fired directly into the crowd, not over their heads as some reported, and many bullets found a mark. Standing in front of the large brick wall that then stood in front of the Big House, was a 19 year old shoemaker from Leek named Josiah Heapy. Despite glowing reports from his employer, who later extolled his gentle character and claimed he had been forced to join the crowd, Heapy appears to have been actively engaged in throwing stones at the soldiers, at least, that is, until a musket ball struck him in the temple and blew his brains out against the gate post.

As Heapy's lifeless form slumped to the pavement, in another section of the crowd, a bricklayer named William Garrett got a ball through his back that exited through his neck and he too fell to the ground gravely wounded but he was eventually whisked off to the infirmary. According to reports others were hit, but in the confusion no one stopped to count the casualties, though it has been supposed that some of the wounded were carried off by their friends and died later. A report in the Bolton Chronicle later claimed that the true tally had been three people killed and six wounded, while reports from Leek spoke of numerous wounded being brought back into the town after the riots.

Some in the crowd seem to have been expecting this development, for shortly after the soldiers had fired their volley someone released a number of carrier pigeons which set off in the direction of Manchester. One of these birds was later captured and found to be carrying a note reporting that the mob had been fired on by dragoons and calling for 50,000 workers to join them in the Potteries. Some witnesses also recalled seeing plumes of gun smoke coming from the crowd just before the soldiers fired, though if this was the case, none of the soldiers or special constables were injured.

Most of the mob, though, was just shocked by the gunfire. From his position behind the dragoons, special constable Joseph Edge had watched all this in fascinated horror, as his son later noted: 'such a scene presented itself which we may pray may never be repeated in this good old town. So panic stricken was the mob that the men simply lay down in heaps in their efforts to get away from the cavalry... '

The 2nd Dragoon Guards open fire on the crowd from Leek.

Having stunned the rioters, the soldiers kept moving forwards and slinging their carbines, they drew their swords and followed by the special constables they charged their horses into the head of the crowd which scattered in panic before them. Immediately, thousands of people began rushing in all directions, many falling over each other in tangled heaps, others leaping through open windows, or into any available hiding place. Apocryphal tales abound. One Joseph Pickford of Leek is said to have taken shelter in a pig sty, much to the annoyance of its porcine occupants, whose squeals threatened to reveal his hiding place. Hundreds more escaped into the adjoining fields. Another story recalled how Thomas Goldstraw, a powerfully built man from Leek and a noted drummer, dropped his drum when the soldiers charged and quickly fled from Burslem back the way he had come, unaware at first that his son who had been nearby at the time had been shot through the thigh and was lying wounded in a field just outside the town. According to the storyteller, Goldstraw junior was later placed on a cart and transported to the surgery of an obliging physician, Dr Wright at Norton-in-the-Moors, who soon had him back on his feet again.

As the military swept past into the Moorland Road, a portion of the mob from the direction of Hanley, rallied and began throwing stones at the body of special constables, who advanced to the conflict in a dense mass, playing away with their truncheons, and completely routed the mob in that quarter. After the soldiers had charged a short distance up the Smallthorne Road, they were halted and recalled: their job was done as the mob, which just before had consisted of five or six thousand people was completely dispersed and the danger to Burslem had passed.

Reference: Staffordshire Mercury, 20 August 1842; Staffordshire Advertiser, 20 August 1842, p.3;  John Wilcox Edge ‘Burslem fifty years ago’, quoted in Carmel Dennison’s Burslem:People and Buildings, Buildings and People, (Stoke-on-Trent, 1996), pp. 36-37; Leek: Fifty Years Ago, (Leek, 1887), p.107 and 121.

Reg Mitchell Takes the Proverbial

Colin Melbourne's statue of R. J. Mitchell
outside the Potteries Museum and Art Gallery,
Hanley.

In 1911, long before he went on to design his world-beating racing planes and later the Supermarine Spitfire, 16 year old Reginald Joseph Mitchell, served a local apprenticeship. Originally from Butt Lane near Kidsgrove, but raised in Normacot, Reg was enrolled as a lowly apprentice engineer at Messrs Kerr, Stuart and Co, locomotive engineers in Fenton. Before moving on to the drawing office where he would make his name, he like the other apprentices had to spend time in the workshops getting his hands dirty working on the firm's machines. Reg's pragmatic father Herbert saw this as a sensible grounding for his ambitious son, but young Mitchell loathed this introduction to his profession, hating the grime-caked overalls he had to wear and the monotony of the work that kept him from what he really wanted to do. He was also less than enamoured with the workshop foreman.

One of the first jobs that Reg had when he started at Kerr, Stuart was the traditional one of tea boy, brewing up for the other apprentices and the foreman, the latter, though regularly complained that Mitchell's tea tasted like piss. Tired of his grumbling, Reg decided that if that was what he thought, then that was what he would get. The next morning Reg arrived at work and as normal took the kettle to the wash room, but instead of filling it with water he urinated into it, then boiled the kettle and made tea. Warning his fellow apprentices not to drink, Reg served the foreman as usual. The man took a sip, then a larger gulp and said, “Bloody good cup of tea, Mitchell, why can't you make it like this every day?” 

Reference: Gordon Mitchell, R.J. Mitchell, from Schooldays to Spitfire, pp. 21- 25

A Disposition to Riot

Between 1799 and 1801 food riots, brought on by scarcity and high prices which in turn had been caused by poor harvests and the effects of Napoleon’s continental blockade, regularly broke out throughout England. With imports being limited, grain was at a premium which increased the price of bread, the cost of a loaf jumping to an all time high of 1s.9d, while other foods such as butter and cheese saw similar hefty hikes in price, a situation not helped by greedy profiteers inflating prices further still. As many of the poor working classes lived off a diet in which bread and other basics played a major part, any serious increase in their prices was bound to cause problems and spark often violent protests. London, Birmingham, Oxford, Nottingham, Coventry, Norwich, Stamford, Portsmouth, Sheffield and Worcester, amongst other places all saw bouts of rioting at this time and the Potteries too suffered several outbreaks.

A satirical cartoon depicting a fat 'forestaller' being dragged along by a rope round his neck by a
 chain of countrymen, to the cheers of a crowd. Illustration by Isaac Cruikshank

On Monday 28 April 1800, a serious food riot broke out after a mob assembled at Lane End and seized a quantity of potatoes, flour and other goods, which they quickly shared out among themselves. The rioting became so serious and alarming that the local Volunteers were called out and the Riot Act was read, though to little effect. So the authorities had to get tough and the Volunteers were sent to capture the ringleaders and after a scuffle seven people were dragged off to Stafford gaol guarded by a party of the Newcastle and Pottery troop of Cavalry. They were William Hatton, William Doukin (or Dowkin), William Myatt, Solomon Harding, Emma Vernon, Ann Goodwin and Sarah Hobson, all of whom were subsequently sent for trial at the Stafford Assize in August. Most were acquitted, but 29 year old Emma Vernon also known as Emma Berks or Amy Burke, who was identified as the chief troublemaker, was found guilty of riotous assembly 'with other persons above the number twelve, and continuing together for one hour after Proclaimation'. 

At the time rioting was a capital offence and Emma was initially sentenced to be hanged on 30 August at Stafford, but on 13 August her sentence was commuted to one of transportation for 21 years to Australia. In June 1801, Emma Berks (alias Emma Vernon, Amy Burke) was one of 297 prisoners transported aboard the curiously named ship Nile, Canada and Minorca, which arrived in New South Wales on 14 December 1801. She would never return, dying in Australia on 1 July 1818, aged 47.

The April riot, though, was not the last to plague the area and in late September more trouble broke out. The Staffordshire Advertiser, whilst praising the exemplary fortitude of the locals during the ongoing food crisis, was dismayed to report 'that since Monday last [22 September] a disposition to riot has manifested itself in various parts of the Potteries.' Miners and potters were reported to have assembled in large groups and going to local food shops had seized provisions and sold them on at what they considered fairer prices. A troop of the 17th Light Dragoons quartered at Lane End, the Trentham, Pottery and Stone Troops of Yeomanry Cavalry, plus the Newcastle and Pottery Volunteers had been repeatedly called out to deal with these infractions and thus far had managed to keep a lid on the situation, curbing any dangerous acts by the mobs. Indeed, the only overtly violent act that the Advertiser could report was that one boy had been seized for hurling stones and was taken into custody. More pleasingly it was noted that some the inhabitants of Hanley and Shelton in an effort to stamp out the blatant profiteering at the root of the troubles, had made a collective resolution not to buy butter from anyone selling at more than 1 shilling per lb and various communities around the Potteries were following suit. Prior to this butter had been shamefully priced at 16d or 17d per lb. The Marquis of Stafford also stepped in and ordered his tenants to thresh their wheat and take it to market, which many did, selling it at the reasonable price of 12s per strike [i.e. 2 bushels]. The paper lauded such actions and hoped that it would promote further reductions in prices. Certainly it quelled the growing unrest in the area and by the the next edition of the paper the Potteries had returned to 'a state of perfect tranquillity', with 'the pleasing prospect of the necessaries of life being much reduced in price.'

(Staffordshire Advertiser, 3 May 1800, p.4; 23 August 1800, p.4; 30 August 1800, p.4; 27 September 1800, p.4; 4 October 1800, p.4)

Peace Celebrations 1814

Napoleon Bonaparte
Author's collection

On 6 April 1814, with the last of his armies defeated and Allied forces fast closing on Paris, Napoleon Bonaparte the self proclaimed Emperor of France gave into pressure and abdicated. Several days later the peace was ratified at the Treaty of Fontainebleau and two decades of almost constant war in continental Europe were seemingly brought to an end. Some days more passed before the news reached Britain but when it did the country celebrated in style with parties and merrymaking. The numerous towns and villages of the Potteries were not left out and the Staffordshire Advertiser gave this initial brief overview of the local festivities, which as indicated would be followed a week later by a longer and much more detailed account of proceedings.

'When our express left the Potteries yesterday, the inhabitants of that populous manufacturing district were in the height of their rejoicings. Most of the manufacturers were giving dinners, &c. to their workmen: and the principal inhabitants dining together in parties at the Inns. At Stoke, in the morning, a numerous assemblage decorated with white favours, and displaying a profusion of flags, paraded the town. - Four fat sheep were roasted, which, with one hundred loaves of bread and four kilderkins of good ale, [i.e. 64 to 72 gallons] were distributed to those poor persons residing within the districts of Stoke, Fenton, &c. who were not to be partakers of the dinners given by the manufacturers to their respective servants. An illumination and display of fire-works, were to take place in the evening.

At Lane End, we understand, similar proceedings were adopted, and considerable preparations were making for a splendid illumination in the evening.

At Burslem, a subscription was entered into which produced nearly £800, an ox and two sheep were purchased, which were roasted whole in the market place, and the principal inhabitants assisted in carving and waiting upon those who chose to eat. 13 hogsheads of good ale succeeded. Sir John Barleycorn had an uninterrupted reign. The Gentlemen dined in the market hall, which was fitted up with much taste, and there was a splendid illumination at night.

At Hanley a large party of gentlemen dined together in the Market Hall, and we understand the principal Houses and Manufactories were to be illuminated in the evening, and a display of fire works to be let off.

At Etruria Manufactory, the workmen, (in number about 500) dined together in a large room at one o'clock. Mr. Wedgwood presided and the following toasts were drank (sic) with enthusiasm. The King – Prince Regent – Queen and Royal Family – Navy and Army of Great Britain – the Allied Sovereigns – Louis 18 – Field Marshal Wellington – a general and lasting Peace – Staffordshire Potteries – Commerce of Great Britain – Cause of Civil and Religious Liberty throughout the World – Land we live in, &c. The females were to be regaled with tea in the evening, & the apprentices have an adequate treat. In the village of Woolstanton a sheep was roasted and distributed with a proportionate quantity of ale to the poor inhabitants. At Tunstall the rejoicings take place this day. Our time is so limited we cannot enter into particulars, but hope to give an additional account in our next.'

Staffordshire Advertiser 23 April 1814, p.4